Take Me Back to Manhattan

Ten Days in Burma - Part 5
Sunday, August 31, 2008

I decided to cut my potential losses (in other words, loss of time, loss of dignity, loss of my mind from yet another horrifying blind date) by informing him that I had been sick the day before and I wouldn’t be having a crazy night of partying. It was the truth. And a perfect excuse for me to essentially say, “If you suck, I’m leaving after drinks…”

But he didn’t suck. In fact, he was adorable and charming and just as much fun as his emails. I walked in and picked him out immediately. He looked exactly like his picture. 1 point for Burma Boy. (Have you wondered at all yet why that’s his name btw???) And when I walked up, he recognized me right away, got a huge smile on his face and pulled out a book of short stories that he’d bought that day for me. 2 points for Burma Boy. We were at a Spanish restaurant and started at the bar with a pitcher of sangria. (It never crossed my mind that my judgment had been SEVERELY impaired by sangria during previous dates.) As Burma Boy sat and spoke Spanish with the bartender, I was pretty immediately taken with his smile and his oh-so sparkling eyes. Ladies and Gentleman, it was possible we had a winner. A winner who was leaving for Japan in 2 days.

We sat down to eat. It was one of those dinners that’s three hours long but feels like 20 minutes. My face hurt from smiling. We laughed and had more sangria which made me increasingly loud. He didn’t yell at me or get annoyed – he found it endearing and found adorable ways to let me know when I was possibly raising my voice a little (ok A LOT) above an acceptable “restaurant level.” We found that we knew some of the same people which undoubtedly made the fact that we’d met online seem a little less daunting. At the end of dinner, he asked if I would come out with him to go meet his friends. Sick? Who was sick?

As we stepped outside, the wind hit my face and the sangria hit my head. Not drunk, just a bit tipsy, and just tipsy enough…While we stood waiting for a cab, he kissed me, and I was soooo glad that I had decided to tell him that I was no longer dating Michael. WHO??

We ended up somewhere in the East Village where I met a few of his equally charming friends whom I had very little interest in, but who were very interested in me. I was inundated with questions: Who was I? Where did I come from? How did we meet? And that’s where my mutual friend lie began. No one needed to know that the mutual friend’s first name was J.

After 20 minutes at the bar, Burma Boy turned to me and said, “Let’s go get a room at the Plaza.”

I stared at him in total disbelief. Had I found a prince? Or a serial murderer?

He clearly read my expression because he quickly jumped in with, “No sex – it’s just my last night in NY. We might as well live it up. Right?” he asked, with that devilishly charming sparkle in his eyes.

Now up until this point, this had been a fairly normal, definitely good first date for me. Not saying that this date wasn’t good anymore – it just was anything but normal. I mean - The PLAZA?!?! THE PLLLLLLAZZZZZZZA!!! I contemplated for about 2 seconds before deciding that it sounded absolutely FABULOUS.

We hopped in a cab and told the driver to take us…TO THE PLAZA!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 11:16 AM 1 comments    

Labels: 10 Days in Burma, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy

Coming Soon to a theater near you
Friday, August 29, 2008

Here is a list of the cities that we know Momma's Man is playing in thus far. I'll update this frequently. Go support independent film!!!

LOS ANGELES
Opens September 5
Laemmle's Sunset 5 (Los Angeles)
Playhouse 7 (Pasadena)
Town Center 5 (Encino)

SEATTLE
Opens September 12 at the Northwest Film Forum

BOSTON
Opens September 19 at Kendall Square Cinemas

SAN FRANCISCO
Opens September 19 at the Sundance Kabuki

CHICAGO
Opens October 3 at the Music Box Theatre

NASHVILLE
Opens October 24 at the Belcourt Theatre

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 9:37 AM 3 comments    

Labels: Momma's Man

Ten Days in Burma - Part 4
Thursday, August 28, 2008

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

On the afternoon of December 31, 2002, I sat on my therapist’s couch and cried because I was going to spend yet another New Year’s Eve alone. My therapist managed to convince me that bad dating was better than no dating at all. If I wasn’t dating, there was absolutely NO chance that I was going to meet Mr. Right. I argued momentarily that it also meant I would steer clear of Mr. OOOOOOOOOOH so wrong...but I knew in my heart she was right.

I spent the first afternoon of 2003 creating a new profile for Jdate and reading it aloud to my amazingly supportive roommate, Nicole. Thankfully I was dealing with someone who understood, since she met her fabulous boyfriend online. I was not thrilled about this whole thing, but I knew that I needed to start dating again and I decided I was willing to give Jdate one more shot.

My first bad date was with a 37 year old man who was NOTHING like his profile (yes, this is a pattern.) I met Older Man for a drink at a swanky hotel bar. I knew it was over the second I sat down. It’s amazing how the witty banter you read on an email changes when you actually hear the other person’s voice saying it. Things are completely different when your imagination is reading an email – especially when you’re like me and have an extremely active imagination.

However, a nice change had occurred during my hiatus from dating. I realized that I didn’t owe any of these men anything. I realized I didn’t have to kiss anyone good night or stay on a date longer than I wanted to. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be civil, but it did mean that first and foremost, I was going to take care of myself. It may sound obvious, but for a girl who is a bonafide people pleaser, this was all new to me and it took time and practice for me to exercise my rights. So when Older Man attempted to kiss me, I made it clear that I was glad to have met him but that I wasn’t interested any further. Older Guy was un-phased and overly confident and even after I told him this point blank - as in "It was really nice to meet you, but I don't think we're a match,", he went in for another kiss. I picked up my bag, said "what part of NOT INTERESTED don't you understand?" and went home.

Then there was Dancing Man who brought me to a tapas bar (I know, I know...DINNER AGAIN!??! Slow learner.) We showed up at 9:30 PM and he told me he had a “surprise” for me at 11:30. That was two hours from the time we sat down. Aforementioned surprise was that the tables get moved, a live Spanish band comes in, and everyone starts dancing. Fun, right? Not with a guy who I had just had 2 hours of strained conversation with and who I had ZERO attraction to. Although I was moronic enough to actually wait for the “surprise”, I exercised my newly found power of choice and chose not to stick around and dance.

There were others leading up to Michael, but it seems I’ve blocked most of them out. Michael - the boy who broke my heart shortly after Burma Boy and I became pen pals. Remember him? And although Michael and I were reconnected via Jdate, we had actually met through one of my best friend two years earlier. So I already knew he was smart, he looked like his picture, he was fun, and we got along. It was not a typical Jdate.

My point in discussing all of this is that as my date with Burma Boy approached, I began thinking about all of these catastrophes and going out with someone I met online was becoming increasingly less attractive. I had visions of strained conversation, zero chemistry, and a purely painful evening in my head.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 6:05 PM 1 comments    

Labels: 10 Days in Burma, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy

Ten Days in Burma - Part 3
Tuesday, August 26, 2008

You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

This was not my first foray into J-dating territory. I first went on a Jdate in June of 2001. I posted my picture and profile and within 24 hours, received over 100 emails. Of those, most boys bored me, a few boys scared me, but one boy intrigued me. We talked on the phone for an hour. I had very little interest in prolonging the mystery of the emails and the man behind the voice, so we arranged to meet for dinner. (Dinner? DINNER??? DON'T EVER MEET A BLIND DATE for dinner. A drink is sufficient. If you like each other it will lead to dinner but you rarely do...Sadly, as you will see, I didn't learn this until waaaaaaaay into my dating days.)

Everything was going just fine until he revealed to me on that very first date that he had been in rehab. For cocaine. And heroin!????!?! According to him, it wasn't a big deal. He didn’t really have a problem, but his parents had felt that he needed to be there. Just this small feeling they got when they found out their son was SHOOTING UP HEROIN. A recovering drug addict in denial of his addiction. That’s encouraging. I suppose I applaud him for being upfront. Sort of. We all have skeletons and history and secrets in our closets. But sometimes it’s best to keep them there past the first HOUR of a date. And it's probably best not to tell me this right after you order your second scotch on the rocks.

The evening only got worse when he kissed me good night. I felt like a fish out of water…in my MOUTH. I couldn’t escape quickly enough. I collapsed into the backseat of a cab feeling frustrated, slightly disgusted, and lonelier than when the evening had begun. Dating was supposed to feel good, I thought. I was supposed to feel excited by the fact that I was putting myself out there. I wasn't supposed to feel let down by a single date with a guy that I never wanted to see again. But alas, I spent the drive uptown contemplating calling my college boyfriend.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next day I got an email from him asking me to go out again that said:

How about that kiss? WOW.

Needless to say, there was not a second kiss, nor a second date. I was baffled. I couldn’t understand how two people could have such completely different experiences. I quickly wrote back explaining that while I had thought I was ready to date again, I’d realized that I’d jumped the proverbial gun. I removed myself from Jdate the following day.

Cut to the summer of 2002 when I had a very BAD experience with a member of the opposite sex. Recently, when someone referred to this person as my ex-boyfriend, I corrected them and told them I prefer to refer to him as “my learning experience.” In my closer circles, I also refer to him as Fuckhead. After dealing with this selfish, self-centered, childish asshole, my best friends encouraged me to give JDate another go. With reluctance, I agreed.

I went on date 1 with a guy who looked nothing like his picture, lied about his height, and basically lied about who he was (although I truly think that last part was unintentional - I don't think he knew who he was.)

Let's discuss the lying - shall we? I can’t really understand lying about anything – I mean, ultimately, isn’t the goal to meet the person on the receiving end of your emails? When they SEE you, they're going to clearly know that something about the way you described yourself is a bit far from the truth. Personally, I don’t think that’s the best way to start a relationship that's supposed to have a foundation built on trust. At least that was one of the things that I'd said I hoped for in my list of relationship wants.

Lie Guy was nice enough and sweet enough and most definitely not for me. Still, I found myself being flirty because it felt fun, even though in my heart I knew I wasn’t interested. I think that this was probably because a. I had made the foolish mistake AGAIN of agreeing to dinner and b. because of a., I decided to have a LOT of sangria. Way, WAAY too much sangria. Judgement impairing sangria. Sangria that made me agree to go see his apartment. What the hell was I thinking? Ummmm - clearly, I wasn't. I’m not naive or stupid (except when consuming copious amounts of sangria), and I don’t make a habit of going home with men that I LIKE on the first date, never mind ones I’m quite certain I’ll never see again. But at dinner, it was nice to feel wanted again. I could tell this boy was interested in me, and my ego was still severely bruised and banged up from Fuckhead. So when he invited me over, I let both my ego and the sangria (mostly the sangria) convince me that I wanted the feeling to last for just a little bit longer.

As soon as I stepped foot in the apartment, I knew I’d made a horrible mistake. Lie Guy seemed like a nice guy, but I was quickly overcome with the realization that I didn’t really know a thing about this person, not to mention the fact that the first thing I had learned about him was that he was a LIAR. My ego was over it and my mind started to spin about how I could get myself out of there as quickly as possible. We both took a seat on the couch and he inched forward to kiss me. Although the kiss was a million times better than the aforementioned dead fish, it was starting to make me sick. I stopped him.

“I had no idea how late it is!” I said, putting my former acting skills to good use. (Unfortunately, my creativity skills were lacking a bit. A girl can't have everything.) “I really need to get going.”

“Let me call you a car.” Lie Guy was big on impressing me with his cash.

“Will it take long? I really need to get going.”

“Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes.”

“OK. I’ll wait."

You're wondering WHAT THE HELL was I thinking?? Why on earth would I stay and wait for a car when I could get out NOW and grab a cab on the street? Weeeell, I was broke and a cab home was going to cost me at least 10 bucks. That’s $10 I could spend on Chai Lattes, a movie, a manicure, or a martini the next evening discussing this with the girls (where they would promptly tell me what a FUCKING MORON I WAS!!!!)

Lie guy got up and called a car and came back to join me on the couch.

“If you’re tired, why don’t you lie down and put your head in my lap,” he said.

EW! I thought. I haven’t even known you for 3 hours. I’m NOT putting my head in your lap, you pervert. What am I still doing here? WHAT THE HELL AM I STILL DOING HERE?

And when I came back to earth from Planet wake up and smell the roses, I realized that Lie Guy had very strategically eased my less than sober head directly into his lap – yes, that very same lap that I’d just rejected - and was stroking my hair. I started to feel sick again. Only this time, I think that my body was trying to convince itself to puke so that he would want me out immediately.

“I can’t believe I’m going to let you leave. I had the best night with you. If this were anything other than our first date, you wouldn’t be leaving right now.”

That was it – Now I was DEFINITELY going to puke. I bolted up and started to gather my things.

“I think the car is here. I heard it honking,” I said nervously as I ran to the window to check the streets of New York City where thousands of cars honk outside every second of every day.

“Relaaaaaaaax. They’ll call when they get here.”

And at that moment, the forces above came to my rescue and the phone rang to let us know that the car was waiting for me downstairs. Lie Guy walked me to the door.

“I’m headed out of town tomorrow for a few days, but I’d love to take you to dinner on Saturday night.”

“I may have a friend coming in to visit. Why don’t you call me when you get back.” I lied as I backed out of the door escaping his attempts at another goodnight kiss. I’d already done waaaaaaay more kissing than I’d bargained for. I practically ran down the hallway and into the elevator, but it wasn’t until I got into the car and leaned against the plush leather seats that I knew I was really safe. And a total and complete IDIOT. No matter how nice it felt to have my ego stroked for a moment or two, it wasn’t worth the lying I had to do to myself or the other person about how I felt about them. Who was the liar now?

Date 2 was with a guy who strongly resembled Ducky from “Pretty in Pink.” Finally, it seemed I had learned my first date lesson and we decided to simply meet for a drink. Of course one hopes that your date drinks as quickly as you do - especially when it's painfully clear that you couldn't have less in common. But Ducky sipped slowly, even as I refused a second cocktail. I sat there staring at this guy, wondering how we had even gotten to the date part of this whole process.

By the time Lie Guy called for that second date, I had gone on Jdate 3 and it wasn’t so bad…in fact, it was good. So good that when I told Lie Guy that I’d met someone else, I didn’t feel like such a liar. Bachelor Number 3 was cute, he seemed smart, mature and he was Jewish (although I guess that part was a given.) We had a good first date and a good first kiss. A good enough first kiss that when his email arrived the next day to tell me he wanted to go out again, my stomach flipped. SCORE! We had a lovely second date with a bottle of wine in the park and dim sum in Chinatown.

Things seemed to being moving along nicely until we connected on the phone one evening. He happened to catch me on a night when I was packing up my very small Upper West Side apartment to move to a slightly less small Chelsea apartment. He rambled on about something or other, and I listened intently until I came across a book of sentimental value that I thought I’d lost ages ago. In celebration, I interrupted to share my excitement with him. Well that didn’t go over so well. After two dates, this guy felt he was at liberty to literally yell at me for interrupting his story after I briefly went off on this celebratory tangent. Since tangents are a fairly common occurrence for me, I knew that this guy had very quickly gone from Mr. Right to Mr. TOTALLY Wrong. It became clear that he'd only seemed dreamy because I’d been comparing him to Lie Guy, Ducky and Fuckhead.

I should have canceled date 3 with him, but out of guilt (I was, after all, on Jdate) I went. For some reason, I felt that I owed it to this guy to give it another shot. Even though I spent the entire day obsessing about how badly I did NOT want to go, I somehow determined that what he needed was more important than what I needed. Hmmmm. People pleasing issues much? Dreading the evening, I literally made myself physically sick to my stomach. I should have seen that as a window of opportunity to cancel. But being the slightly naïve dater that I was, I felt if I cancelled, I’d have to reschedule. Silly me. Eventually I would learn that in the world of dating (and in the world of life) the first person I needed to make happy was me. But for now, I went on the date.

The poor guy didn’t have a fighting chance. He annoyed the hell out of me within the first 10 minutes of our walk to Tribeca. Every single word he said was annoying. The way he said it was annoying. The way he breathed was annoying. I was so sick, I sat and watched him eat dinner, while I sipped a gingerale, and then I went home after the movie. I never saw him again and I removed myself from Jdate for a second time.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:58 PM 1 comments    

Labels: 10 Days in Burma, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Program...
Monday, August 25, 2008

There's more Burma Boy to come but I have something else to say which hasn't been a common occurence lately.

Just back from a weekend in Chicago to visit two of my good friends from college and meet their babies. It was way too short but great nonetheless as I held my own with the babies (not always the case which is why it heeds mentioning) and picked up with my friends as though we'd seen each other yesterday.

But what truly bears mentioning is this: I miss a city. Yes - I miss THE city. (And if you have to ask which city....ummm hi...check out the name of my blog). But just...in general...I miss a city. LA just doesn't pass for a city. It's one big sprawling suburb after another, interconnected by highways and long ass streets that span miles and miles and miles. You could fit all of Chicago and New York in the "city" of LA and I think you'd still have room for Boston. Something about a street that packs houses and townhouses and apartments and brownstones one on top of each other, almost like sardines, just feels right to me. Building up makes sense. I like being that close to my neighbors and knowing the owners of the restaurants in my neighborhood. A "neighborhood" in LA spans blocks and blocks and yards and houses with a shop or a restaurant thrown in for good measure except for on the major streets where you will constantly see cars circling to get a closer parking spot. And on more than one occasion, I've witnessed a drive from Fred Segal on Melrose and Crescent Heights down the DVF at Melrose and La Cienega...That means nothing to you? Take a look:


View Larger Map


See what I meeeeeean??

In NYC or Chicago, or even Boston, the fun is in the walking, the perusing, the people watching on the streets. The stores are more boutique-y and less trendy, the sidewalks more user friendly. We walked a block and a half to dinner at a fabulous Italian trattoria last night, en route passing no less than 10 other options for eating and drinking and had the stores been open, I would have stopped in every single one. When I walk up my street, I see houses.

This is why I get excited going to Montana Avenue in Santa Monica or Abbott Kinney in Venice, a little bit on Larchmont (at least as far as the stores go) or 3rd street. But I couldn't make a day out of any of those places - a few hours and a meal, tops. And they always have to be a destination. I think that's what I miss the most. I like the whimsy of NYC and Chicago and Barcelona and Florence. The ability to walk out your door, head down the street, and just see where the day takes you.

In LA, it simply takes you to your car.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 10:07 PM 1 comments    

Labels: driving, LA rant, travels

Ten Days in Burma - Part 2
Friday, August 22, 2008

Read Part 1 here.

About 2 days into my pen pal’s departure for Iceland, Michael, the boy I had been dating, departed from me. It seemingly came out of nowhere. We'd been having a lot of fun and according to him, that feeling had been mutual. I’m pretty clear about whether or not I like someone. I’ve never been one to date just so I could say I was dating. I’d rather sit home watching re-runs of Golden Girls than spend time with someone that does absolutely nothing for me. I don’t feel the need to just have a companion. And the presence of the stomach flip, that inexplicable and incredible sensation that happens when you just begin to think about someone who you’re attracted to and excited by and all of a sudden your stomach literally flips - the stomach flip is a requirement for a 3^rd date.

Michael made my stomach flip. I loved being around him, and it was seemingly mutual. We enjoyed the same things – wine, food, New York nights, hanging out with friends, lying on the couch together. We laughed a lot, had great, intelligent conversation, not to mention a pretty fabulous attraction. And, there was the ever essential stomach flip.

On our 2^nd date Michael slipped into the conversation that he'd been talking about the "girl he was dating" to his best friend in Colorado. I coyly asked him if she knew he was cheating on her with me, and he laughed and kissed me across the table. He asked me out for Valentine's Day for our 3^rd date and he told me he wanted to take me to Italy over the summer. The summer was 5 months away. This was good. I kissed him across the table. But somewhere around the 12^th date, Michael told me he wasn’t in a very good place in his life right now, and he wasn’t in the mindset to be starting a relationship. I was surprised, heartbroken and terribly sad.

But despite the disappointment of having my heart stomped on by yet another New York man, errr- boy, I was struck by the fact that I had finally realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do to change or help or fix this. It was the first time I had ever conceded to the lack of control I had in a relationship. Usually I spent several hours, ok - days (occasionally months) berating myself, going over and over and OVER the relationship in my head, trying to figure out how I'd screwed things up, what I could have done differently. I wasted hours of my precious 20's worrying about what had gone wrong, even with men that I really wasn’t particularly interested in. (It was fine that I didn’t want them, BUT WHY on EARTH DIDN’T THEY WANT ME!?!?!) This time was different. I finally realized that I was never going to know what had gone wrong. I could take Michael's word for what he had said (even though it sort of sounded like a crock of shit) or I could squander away days of my precious youth figuring out how it was my fault. I finally chose the former. Whether or not it had anything to do with me, I had no control of this situation. All I could do was move forward.

My move forward was helped by Burma Boy’s consistent emails. And although they put a smile on my face, they still seemed harmless since he was living in Boston and leaving for Japan for 6 months to go to business school. Until he got back from Iceland and sent the following:

Well, let’s go out this week in NYC... I'll be visiting my little sista and her baby - need a little play time points before I bail to Asia for a couple months. Thursday night I'm busy, but nothing planned on any of the other nights. I'm not trying to work anything here. i know you’re sitchy with your new man, so i'm cool with that, but now that i've read so many emails from you it is as if we've know each other for two weeks. so i'll give you my mobile number and the ball to do as you wish.

I wished to meet this new boy. Greatly. But I couldn’t decide what to do, as my “new man” and I were no longer “sitchy.” Whatever “sitchy” is, we weren’t it anymore. If I told him, I felt it would put A LOT more pressure on our so-to-speak "meeting." But if I didn’t tell him, and he was as cute and charming as his emails and his picture (which was a HUGE if in the online dating world), then what to do? Ultimately, I told him the truth…

this actually seems like a perfect point in this one-sided email conversation to throw in the minor detail that the boy and i are done for right now. he has some stuff he needs to work through, and under the circumstances, it doesn't seem like the time to be starting a new relationship. it feels weird to tell you this but also weird not to so i'm telling you. i'm babbling. because i'm not sure why i feel like i should tell you but not telling you feels sort of like lying and i'm not so into lying. i just think it's bad karma to strategically leave out information. i feel like since i told you when i was dating someone, i should also inform you when i'm not. and that's the end of that. so if you still want to, let's play in nyc this week (for the record, i would have wanted to hang out and meet you regardless of my single or not single status...) i have your cell and here's mine…

As it turned out, Burma Boy agreed with me about karma and not lying and decided that he did still want to meet me for drinks. Fabulous.

But on Friday, the idea of finally meeting Burma Boy started to feel far less fabulous. I’m not sure if it was that I’d been violently ill on Thursday and had been in bed all day comatose from the amounts of Tylenol Flu that I’d taken, or if it was because I just couldn't stomach the idea of yet another blind date. Michael had given me a 2 month break from the string of 8 or 9 horrific Jdates I’d gone on since January 2003, when my therapist informed me that in order to actually have a boyfriend, I was going to have to go on dates and meet new people. Novel idea. Since, I REFUSED to go to “singles nights” and I’d pretty much depleted my supply of friend’s friends, AND I worked in the Broadway theater where men wear stilettos more often than women, Jdate seemed like my only option.

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 11:10 AM 2 comments    

Labels: 10 Days in Burma, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy

Ten Days in Burma - Part 1
Thursday, August 21, 2008

I met Burma Boy while I was dating someone else. I use the word “met” loosely. I “met” him via email. That's only sort of true too. I met him via Jdate. I figured if I was going to take the ridiculous plunge into the world of online dating, I might as well make my mother happy by dating someone Jewish. Regular dating hadn’t been working out so well. It's hard for it to work out when you aren't going on dates. So I finally caved and decided to try the internet.

I posted my picture and profile: my age (26), where I was from (NYC), what I looked like (5'4", brown eyes, brown hair), a little about me (love sex and the city, the beach, and red wine - especially when consumed at dinner parties with friends), my perfect match (makes people laugh. challenges me. confident and driven. up for trying new things and teaching me new things. isn't scared of relationships...), my idea of a perfect first date (there's no such thing), and things I’d learned from past relationships (I should trust my instincts. Sometimes it's worth the battle, sometimes it's worth the compromise, and sometimes I actually am wrong.)

While perusing Jdate in September 2002, I came across Burma Boy’s picture (which was cute) and his profile (which was witty and fun) so I decided to take a chance and email him. I never heard back. Until February 2003 when out of the blue, I got the following email:

hi. this is a bit funny, but back in september i think you emailed. so, I know it has been a bit of time since then, but i didn’t realize i gave an email address i don't check that often. let me know if you are still alive and kicking…

I’m not sure what possessed me to write back – the email wasn’t that interesting, and who gives an email address to a dating service that they don’t check that often without realizing it? Plus, his profile said he lived in Boston and I lived in New York. PLUS, I had been dating someone for about a month – someone who I really liked…but something made me write back. Maybe it was that he DID live in Boston so it seemed harmless. Maybe it was that when I looked at his profile and picture, I definitively remembered having emailed him. Maybe I had just had one too many glasses of chardonnay. Whatever it was, I emailed him back:

were you living in nyc in september? because you're living in boston now - no? and i grew up in mass., but i live in nyc now...and i don't think i would have emailed someone in boston, but maybe your smile felt irresistible. (clearly I was still interested in flirting...) anyhow, yes - i'm still alive and kicking. but seeing someone. only for about a month, but curious to see where it goes. still, you seem like a great guy - even if you are sort of far away. i can't date you right now, but i'm sort of interested to know more about you -- so if you feel inclined, write back. and if you don't, will you at least let me know if you just moved to boston recently or if i was totally on crack when i emailed you??

And indeed, he did email back – quite the charmer himself:

must have been the irresistible smile. no, i do (well did live) in NYC for 1.5 years, but just bailed this week. I'm off to Japan for 6 months and then moving to Boston. So, i was and now i'm not in NYC. But, hey better late then never, eh? Well, have fun until August and I hope all goes well. If you feel inclined to chat (I hope you do) between now and then you can email.

Well, I did feel inclined. And thus, the beginning of an email correspondence that I looked forward to on a daily basis. It was fun to get to know a stranger through writing . Over the next 2 weeks, I learned of my “pen pal’s” taste for adventure as he took a last minute unplanned trip to Iceland. I learned that he liked to push the envelope as he posed intelligent and flirtatious questions. I learned that via email, I thought he was very cute. And I learned that because there was really no risk involved, I had no fear of saying how I felt about anything. I spoke my mind strongly and clearly – and if he didn’t like it, I didn’t care. As life would have it, he did like it…

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 3:11 PM 3 comments    

Labels: 10 Days in Burma, past, writing exercise, yeah...i'm a little bit crazy

Shameless Husband Promotion

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:08 PM 1 comments    

Labels: daily, the industry

Things that are really cool
Thursday, August 14, 2008

Seeing a movie trailer for a film starring your husband that will play in arthouse theaters all over the country....

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 1:01 PM 4 comments    

We couldn't resist
Monday, August 11, 2008

Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 8:45 PM 4 comments    

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